


Rule #1

by Josies



Series: No Saints Without Sinners [4]
Category: Saints Row
Genre: Alcohol, Dirty Talk, Drunk Sex, F/M, Grinding, Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Lapdance, Maledom, Mentioned Boss/Dex, Mentioned Johnny/Aisha, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pole Dancing, Relationship Problems, Saints Row 1, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Tension, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-01-29 09:34:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12628083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Josies/pseuds/Josies
Summary: Just one week prior to the boat accident, the freshly named leader of the Third Street Saints throws one hell of a party at Tee'N'Ay in celebration of her 22nd birthday. Both Doris and Johnny try to drown their relationship problems in excessive amounts of liquor. Johnny wants to make a bet that ends up flipping their friendship into something more with one simple rule applied: no kissing.





	1. Holler

**Author's Note:**

> The First BossGat Smut™ is here!! I literally named the series 'no saints without sinners' as an excuse to post smut. Not that I need an excuse, but still, that makes it funnier. This started as a one shot with one sex scene, but then I kinda added another as a bonus chapter, and ended up dividing it all into three chapters to even things out. There's no sex in the first chapter yet, but it's coming. 
> 
> Please don't read this if you aren't comfortable with the themes! I'll add more tags with each chapter, and I tag things especially well when the rating goes up to mature and explicit, so that shouldn't be a problem. Thanks!

 

* * *

**November** **2006**

* * *

 

Johnny enters Tee'N'Ay as he stuffs his phone and a pack of cigarettes into his pockets. He stepped outside to make a quick call to check up on some of his guys posted around Stilwater. After a shitload of hard work and sleepless nights, not to mention a nasty knee injury, they took over the city, and he intends to keep it that way. And with Julius out of the picture, they need to be extra careful, but he doesn't want Doris worrying about any of that tonight. It's her birthday and she's earned herself a night of celebration.

The music's loud and the club's packed with Saints, their associates and Doris' friends. Everyone's been swarming around her all night, looking to congratulate her, buy her drinks and chat with her. He hasn't really had a chance to just sit down with her yet and Johnny's never been good at sharing. It's his turn to spend some quality time with his best friend.

He's not up for elbowing through all the people between them, though, so he takes his phone out again and types her a message. It doesn't take her long to read it, since she's always obsessively checking her phone. She looks around and spots Johnny leaning against a wall away from the bar and the stages. He points toward the VIP booth booked for her use for the whole night. She nods and holds up three fingers to tell him to give her a few minutes. He taps his forehead with two fingers in a lazy salute and he moves to the booth to take a seat. There's a small stage with a pole right in front of it and the girl working that pole keeps him entertained until Doris shows up with a plastic bowl in one hand and two bottles of Corona in the other. She throws a bottle Johnny's way and he catches it. He raises the bottle a bit as a quiet thanks. Then she drops down to sit next to him, setting the bowl onto her lap. He notices it's full of candy, not sure what else he expected, and he grabs a handful out of it.

"What's up, Doe? You enjoyin' the party?"

"Well, we're at my favorite strip club, there's a big-ass buffet of all the food and booze I love, the girls are all over me, I just did shots off the navel of a Colombian football player, and I'm drownin' in presents," she lists, raising up a finger for each point she makes. Then she looks at him and grins. "Best party I've ever been to, hands down. I wanna extend my birthday to last all week."

"Speakin' of presents, I got you one," he says.

"You? Got _me_ a present?"

"Yo, don't act so surprised, or you won't get it."

"No, I want it!" She darts up from the comfortable slouch she already settled into, tucking her bottle between her knees, so she has both hands ready to receive the present.

"Okay, okay!" He pulls a small box in wrapping paper out of his jacket and hands it over to her. "Here. Happy birthday."

"You didn't wrap this yourself, did you?" She chuckles as she pulls off the curly, silver ribbon and unwraps the neatly folded ends of the purple paper. She finds a plastic case inside and she flips it around in her hands. "Johnny, what's this?"

"A mixtape."

She's quiet for a second, staring at the tape inside the case in her hands. "You made—you made me a mixtape?"

"Yeah, so you can fuckin' stop whinin' about the music when we drive."

"And it's... a cassette tape."

"Well, you know a CD just ain't right," he says. "It has your favorites, like Spice Girls, and whatever. Stuff I don't wanna kill you over."

"You don't wanna kill me over Spice Girls? See, I knew you love 'em."

Johnny grunts. "Whatever."

"You thought about me while makin' this," she says as she turns to look at him with a surprisingly well-faked coy smile playing on her lips. He tries to ignore it.

"I thought about how to stop losin' years of my life every time I gotta sit in a car with you longer than three minutes."

"Johnny?"

"What?" He turns to look at her just as she leans in closer to grab a hold of his broad chin and kiss his cheek, spilling almost half of the candy in the bowl between them. She drags out the kiss far longer than necessary.

"I love it," she says with the sweetest smile he's ever seen her give anyone. "Thanks."

"You gettin' lipstick on my face. Get off me." He pushes her off and wipes his cheek with the sleeve of his jacket. She puts her head on his shoulder and she hugs his arm before settling back down on her side of the seat. "You're welcome," he adds before placing his bottle of beer on his lips, chugging down half of its contents in an attempt to cover up how pleased he is over her reaction.

"Your aftershave smells nice." She presses a finger to his thigh, drawing a few circles on the fabric of his pants, feeling tipsy and frisky and up for a bit of teasing. He always puts her into teasing mode when he tries to downplay any positive feelings she brings out in him. "Did you get all dressed up for me?"

Her whole hand's on his thigh now, sliding slowly toward his groin, but Johnny doesn't get to react as a group of girls pop up to interrupt them. Doris pulls her hand away, and then they pull her attention away from him with their gifts and congratulations, leaving him to deal with whatever it is she began by himself. The girls start catching up and gossiping, and since Johnny isn't exactly dying to know who Christy slept with last weekend, where Adriana got her gorgeous dress from, and what's currently happening on this and that TV show, he gives his undivided attention to the stripper on the small stage in front of the booth again. Soon enough it takes his mind off of what just happened.

Then, when he's all absorbed in the wonders of exotic dancing, he gets candy thrown into his face. He frowns at Doris, picks up a gummy bear and throws it back at her. "Yo, cut it out."

"I'm talkin' to you, dumbass," she says, throwing one more jelly bean at him. "If it weren't for your glasses, your eyes would literally be glued to that poor girl's ass."

"Well, she's hot." Johnny shrugs.

"Well, you should goddamn tip her, then. Hold this," Doris says as she drops the bowl of candy onto his lap, pulls out a fifty dollar bill and gets up to slip it into the stripper's bikini top.

"You keep throwin' cash around like that, you're gonna end up havin' to sell that mansion you and Dex took from the Carnales."

"Hell no, I just moved in," she snorts, sitting back down next to him. Ever since she first laid her eyes on that house by the shoreline, she decided it'd be hers one day. She's not gonna give it up, even if Julius comes back. "Don't you worry your pretty little head with how I spend my cash, baby-boy."

"Just sayin'."

"Didn't you say you've always wanted to rob a bank?"

"Yeah?"

"Then lets fuckin' do that."

"Yo, for real?"

"I make the rules now, Johnny. We can do whatever we wanna do."

"I guess it ain't all bad havin' you run things in Julius' place."

"Ya know, that just might be the nicest thing you've ever said to me." She puts her hand over her heart, sighing and fluttering her lashes. "What a perfect birthday."

"Just don't tell Dex about our plans to rob a bank, he's gonna throw a fit," Johnny says. "Speakin' of Dex, where's your boyfriend? He runnin' late?"

"I don't know."

"Yeah? How's it going with you two?"

Doris' mood drops and she throws her legs on a table holding a bunch of empty glasses and bottles with an annoyed grunt. "Eh."

"That bad?" Johnny asks with his eyebrows raised. "Thought you two had somethin' good."

She scoffs, _so did I_ , but manages to keep her emotions in check. She's never been dumped before and Dex didn't even bother doing it properly. He just stopped talking to her, carelessly pushed her aside like a fucking meal he didn't feel like finishing. One big fight and everything between them seemed to turn meaningless to him. Still, she's not going to show how hurt she is. Not to Johnny, not to anyone. She's nowhere near drunk enough for that.

"Apparently I was 'just a stripper before Julius saved me from dying on that street corner', so yeah, I haven't _earned_ my current position," she replies and takes a long sip of her beer. She's unable to keep bitterness out of the tone of her voice, already failing her own plan of keeping her relationship status to herself. Shit.

"What?"

"Nothin'." She swings her free hand his way, telling him to forget what she said. "Haven't heard from him for two weeks and he's obviously not showin' up to my fuckin' birthday party. Don't know what the hell's up with him." She pauses for another frustrated sip of beer. Lying feels kinda bad when she, in fact, does know why Dex acts the way he does. "Fuck it. I ain't got time for boys who don't know what they want."

"Want me to punch him?" He offers her a solution that usually works on most things.

She chuckles, even smiles a little. That's good, she shouldn't be sulking around on her birthday. "If you actually see his ass, I don't mind you throwin' a punch or two his way. He probably will, but I really don't."

"Deal," Johnny confirms with a quick fist pump, which she handles without even needing to look his way, as it's become a kind of a thing between them. "Nevermind that asshole, Doe. That guy ain't gettin' how lucky he is to have you."

Now Doris turns her head for a glimpse of his profile, biting her lip, as she debates whether she should tell him, or not. She's not sure if Johnny's heard the rumors flying around. At least he hasn't mentioned them. She decides to go for it, as it's probably for the best. "Dex asked me if I'm sleepin' with you behind his back. He was pretty mad. Said he's sick of the rumors."

"Wow." Johnny tears his eyes away from the stripper in front of them, eyebrows raised again. "Who says we're fuckin'?"

"Fuck if I know," she replies and shrugs her shoulders. "Half of Stilwater, according to very mad, very jealous Dex. I mean, who does he think I am? Tanya? That bitch had no class."

"True." He nods. He falls silent for a moment as he turns his attention back to the stripper, looking thoughtful. "I wonder if Eesh heard the rumors. Would explain a lotta things."

"What things?"

"Well, she kinda dumped me. Again."

"Shit, really? What'd you do now?"

"Not a damn thing," he grunts, taking his turn to swing his hand her way. "Yo, let's not get into that. It's your birthday. Lemme buy you a lap dance."

"What's the catch? You wanna watch?"

"Hell yeah!" He laughs as he's signing for a curvy girl in a cop suit to come their way. "You've been a bad girl, Miss Moreno, and there's an officer who wants to hold you in for questionin'."

"For fuck's sake, Johnny," Doris groans. "Can you not make it sound like a porn film?"

"A guy can dream, right?"

"Sure. Next we're gonna give Stilwater a real reason to talk nasty shit about us."

"Yo, if Dex's really dumb enough to pass on the opportunity, I'm sure in for a good birthday smash."

She gives him a quizzical look, but then the girl in a cop suit blocks the view, and she's forced to drop whatever it is he brought up. She can't quite enjoy the girl on her lap as she normally would while debating the actual meaning behind Johnny's words. They've been flirting around more lately, but they're never serious about it, or at least she doesn't think they are. His voice was much lower than usual, almost seductively so in a strange way, but it was just a joke.

He's got to be joking.

 

* * *

 

 

Too many tequila shots, one thrilling fistfight, two expensive champagne bottles, and a few lines of coke done off a particularly attractive stripper's back later, Doris finds herself clinging onto a cold metal pole. For old times' sake, as Johnny so cleverly put it in his attempt to get her to show off her talents. It worked, though, which she blames on the mix of booze and blow.

She used to work as a stripper to pay for college. The college she had to eventually quit, because shaking her ass on a stage a few hours a night wasn't enough to cover both living fees and a degree in business. And even if it were, getting groped constantly by middle-aged, married men wasn't worth it. She wasn't too keen on the idea of getting a loan, either, nevermind being granted one would have probably been a dead-end with her mugshots and all the shit from her past forever following her in her records, and she knew better than to seek for one illegitimately, as would anyone who prefers having all their limbs intact.

She decided she'd make a name for herself without a degree. After all, business can be done without one, and she did have some stuff going on before she joined the Saints.

Johnny's long whistle pulls her out of her thoughts. "Nice. I'll never know how you can do that with high heels on while you're drunk off your ass. Actually, I'll never know how you do _anythin'_   like that."

"The more drunk I am, the easier it gets — just like drivin'," she says with a grin and spins around the pole. She's not lying, or even joking. Her brother, who does racing for a living, taught her to drive long before she even had her license, and she's one the best drivers Johnny's ever seen. It's not exactly a habit of hers to drive around while drunk or high, but under certain circumstances she's had to do it a few times, and she's never crashed any vehicle like that, unlike sober.

"Yo, what's your special move?"

"My special move?"

"Every stripper has one."

"Pole dancer."

"Pole _artist_."

Doris nods approvingly. "Nice. Okay, watch this," she tells him as she adjusts her dress and shakes her hands as she readies herself to climb up the pole. She shows him her favorites, the ones that got her the biggest tips back then, and she's on the fourth one when Johnny suddenly speaks up over the music.

"Hold up," he says as he straightens up on his seat. "Do that again."

She turns her head to glance at him. "Why?"

"Just do it, will ya?"

She rolls her eyes, but does as she's told, and performs the move for him again. A little slower this time, just to show off.

"Holy shit," he laughs and his eyes light up behind the glasses. "You used to work _here_ , didn't you?"

She drops down in front of him, squatting with legs spread, her back against the pole, holding onto it with one hand. There's a whole new kind of frown on her face. "What?"

"I've seen that ass do that move before. You wore a blonde wig, a halo and lil' white wings," he says. "Man, it all makes sense now. Why you're so damn fond of this place, why you know the staff and the girls. They're you're stripper family."

"You remember my ass?" Doris asks, her frown deepening, though she isn't quite sure should she even feel shocked. This is definitely something one can expect from Johnny Gat.

"A nice, round ass like yours? From this angle? Movin' like that?" He asks the questions as if he can't believe he has to make such an obvious point. "Fuck yeah, I do."

"How the fuck do you remember somethin' like that, but keep forgettin' to fill up the tank, or stack up on ammo before a fight?"

"Priorities, Doe," he answers, grinning wide while he's eyeing her body shamelessly. "It's all about the priorities."

Suddenly she feels exposed. More than usual. "Quit undressin' me with your eyes."

"You're the one standin' there showin' off your coochie," he points out, snorting, and moving his gaze up to meet her eyes. "There's not much on you to undress, anyway."

There it is again — the low voice accompanied by that strange look in his eyes she's never seen before. Not like this. Doris swallows and snaps her knees together. "The show's over, Gat."

"You know, I came back here later to get a lap dance from you, but they said you had already quit," he continues, still grinning.

"Poor you. What would you have done if you did find me here that night, but I refused to give you one?"

"First of all, I don't see that happenin'."

"Of course you don't." She rolls her eyes and sits down on the edge of the stage. She reaches down to grab the beer from Johnny's hand. He lets her take it.

"Second of all, I woulda asked you out on a date and gotten one free of charge as foreplay."

"Didn't take you for a guy who does foreplay."

"Why you gotta insult me like that?" Johnny spreads his arms wide and gives her a little pout.

"'Cause you're arrogant enough to think I'd actually fuck you and your frosted tips on a first date."

"You sayin' you ain't a girl who puts out on a first date if she wants to?"

"You sayin' I look like that to you?"

"Yo, you know what I mean," he says, moving himself up to the edge of the seat to get closer to her and touch her knee briefly. "You're the kinda girl—a woman who knows what she wants and ain't afraid to take it. You're determined. Resourceful. Beautiful."

"Wanna high five yourself for that save?"

He raises his hand up and slaps it with the other. The way he keeps his face straight makes her laugh into the bottle before she finishes the drink.

"Now, how about a quick striptease?" Johnny asks casually.

"Yeah, um, no. I'm good."

"Come on, Doe. Lemme appreciate your talents."

"I ain't gonna start strippin' for you in a full club at my own damn birthday party."

"You didn't seem to have trouble doing that at Dex's birthday party." He knows bringing Dex up again isn't the greatest idea, but there's no other way to remind her that she's done it before.

"I performed for him. It was a present."

"Yeah, a present you unwrapped yourself in front of everyone else."

"Look, Johnny," she says as she reaches for her refilled bowl of candy to grab a handful, shoving it all into her mouth at once. "Sometimes a girl gotta do what a girl gotta do."

"As I recall, you kissed three girls durin' your little performance, includin' mine," he reminds her. "Is that what a girl gotta do?"

"Okay, first of all—" She pauses to swallow down half of the candy to be able to speak more clearly. "Point me to a guy who absolutely hates watchin' girls kiss each other."

"Fair enough."

"Second of all, Aisha liked it. A lot. It released the tension between us. I was just multi-taskin'."

"Tension? I haven't seen any tension between you two."

"That's 'cause you're fuckin' blind, Johnny."

"Again, fair enough," he says, uninterested in getting any further into that topic. He has something else in mind. "I just always thought there's tension between _us_."

She watches him as she chews on the rest of the candy in her mouth, swallowing it down, swinging her legs a little, taking her sweet time to reply with, "That's a very different kind of tension."

Johnny can barely hear her husky voice over the music, but it's enough. He gets up from his seat to push her knees apart and stand between her legs. He leans his hands on the stage, bringing his face close to hers, forcing her to lift her chin up to avoid breaking the eye contact she holds him in. "And what kind's that?" He asks.

Doris blinks and the glitter on her long lashes sparkles in the flashing lights. She doesn't move away, just tilts her head slightly to the side. "You should know."

"You got somethin' on your face," he says as he places his thumb to the corner of her mouth, sliding it slowly down along the outer line of her lower lip. She parts her lips open and deliberately touches the inside of the lower one with her tongue. They both know there's nothing on her face.

She'd laugh at the oldest trick in the book he just pulled, but she wants to see how far he's ready to take his arrogance. How serious he is about the game they've been at for months more or less, of taking it to the next level, and maybe even finishing it, assuming his luck lasts that far.

His lips are barely an inch away from hers when she turns her head the other way. "I need some air," she says and she slips away from him before he has a chance to react. "Wanna go for a smoke outside?" She takes her faux fur coat with her, heading out of the VIP booth without waiting for an answer. Her heart pounds inside her chest, and it's not because of all the alcohol that night, or working the pole.

Johnny drops his head between his shoulders and chuckles quietly. She's done this before, and by now he's really fucking dying to kiss her, but he's not expecting her to make this easy for him. In fact, that'd take all the fun out of it. He glances Doris' way. She's looking fine as hell in her little black dress, purple pumps, and curly hair open and swept to one side. People stopped her for a chat immediately after she left the booth and he feels almost a bit jealous for having to share her with everyone else.

He grabs a forgotten glass of whiskey off a table and downs it in one. Then he takes his jacket, throws it on and walks out of the booth, right by Doris, touching the small of her back on his way out. It's her turn to glance after him. She loses her interest in the people trying to chat with her, so she tells them to go get some drinks on her, and she follows him outside.

"I gotta hand it to you, though," Johnny says as he lights up a cigarette and leans against a column. He's fine with acting like nothing happened, like she didn't just play him. "Pretty brave move showin' everyone what you used to do. You take pride in what some other people feel ashamed of. I respect that."

She scoffs after lighting up her own cigarette. "Yeah, a lot of good that did me."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not gonna share the fine details of the last fight I had with Dex, but let's just say that, once they know about it, there's not a man who wouldn't use my former profession against me in an attempt to hurt me when they feel like going for the low blow. Doesn't matter how sweet they been before."

Johnny just nods. He doesn't disagree with her, because even if it's generalizing the issue, he knows men fairly well himself. Doris holds a lot of mistrust for them, and for everyone, really, but she has her reasons. He knows she does, even if she's never shared them with him. Not yet, at least.

"You left him, then? Or the other way around?" He asks. Nothing's happened between them yet, but Doris hasn't turned him down, either. He wants to be sure that, if he were to take things further, she wouldn't regret it later on. Johnny might be an arrogant asshole, but he's never been one to break off other people's relationships, and he's certainly not intending to do that to his best friend.

She gives him a quick glance. She half-expected him to give her _the_ argument, as in _not all men are like that_ , but he didn't. She's not sure what to think of it. Does Johnny Gat really understand what she's about? "Think he left me," she says, finally feeling drunk enough for honesty.

"You think?"

"He doesn't answer his phone. Acts like I don't exist."

"That's mature."

She shrugs. She's so damn far from sober and thinking about Dex makes her miss him. She's kept herself busy the past two weeks just to keep him out of her head. "He's jealous."

"He should at least be a man enough to say it's over. You don't have to take that shit from him. You don't have to take it from anyone." Johnny pauses to light up another cigarette. He's been trying to quit for three years, but the second he gets a beer in his hand, there's always a cigarette in the other. "You know what? Delete his number, throw his shit out, just get rid of him for good. We'll find someone to replace him."

"And do exactly what he's doing to me? I might be a bitch, but come on." She blows smoke out through her nose as she kicks a plastic cup on the ground in frustration, wishing she were able to be a bigger and colder bitch toward Dex. She wants to be awful, wants to go trash his car and kick him out of the crew, but she can't, and she hates it.

"So, if he comes back, you just gonna let him?"

"No."

"Then what's holdin' you back?"

"I don't know, it's just not that simple. He couldn't deal with Julius leavin' the crew to me. I mean, you know how Julius treated him, though compared to us he did everything perfect. He worked really hard all the time. Honestly, I kinda expected Julius would put Dex in charge, and I guess he expected that, too."

"Yeah, but takin' that out on you? Still a dick move. Don't get hung up on someone like that," Johnny says. He's getting mad in her place. He knew she developed a soft spot for Dex early on, but now he's beginning to understand how big that spot actually is.

"But he—"

"And don't make excuses for him. Doesn't suit you."

"I'm not, I just..." She trails off for a second, crossing her arms over her chest. She looks away and Johnny knows she's hurt. "He said he's fine with me being in charge, and I believed him, but he lied to my face. I get why he's mad, so why'd he have to fuckin' lie?"

"I lied to Eesh about somethin' a while back and she hasn't forgiven me. Don't think she will."

She wants to ask what he lied about, but she already knows he won't tell her. She doubts that's the point of him telling her this in the first place. "Why'd you lie to her?" She asks the question which sounds more like the one he's expecting to hear.

"Didn't wanna hurt her by tellin' the truth."

"Didn't work out too well, did it?"

He chuckles, nodding to himself, blowing out thick, white smoke. "Why we keep talkin' about 'em?"

"'Cause we're fools who don't know how to party right." She gives him a forced half-smile and she drops her cigarette to the ground and steps on it with a sigh. She stares at her shoes for a second as she decides she won't have her birthday ruined by a guy who isn't even there. Favoring the guy who _is_ present with her attention sounds much better, anyway. She looks up at Johnny again. "Fine. What you wanna bet on?"

"A lap dance."

 

* * *

 


	2. Last Time Lover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They do the frick frack now. I had to edit this kinda quick, but I hope it's okay. And thanks for the kudos again! Whenever I see the notification emails I pretty much just drop whatever else I'm doing to write some more Saints Row stuff. Great way to avoid my responsibilities.

* * *

 

"A lap dance."

Doris raises her eyebrows at his suggestion, but both the deadpan tone and the look she gives him are unmistakably sarcastic. "Shockin'."

"What can I say? I'm full of surprises."

"How about we shake things up a little and you give me a lap dance?"

"Look, you did blow, and I don't wanna be responsible for you dyin' on your birthday, 'cause your heart couldn't take the state of arousal my lap dance would put you in."

"Ay, Dios mío," she says with a tormented sigh, leaning her head back against the wall to stare up at the sky, astoundingly close to praying for the first time in years for God to give her strength to deal with the next level bullshit Johnny puts her through every day, as if she doesn't do the exact same thing to him.

"Yeah, so we should play it safe, you know."

"Got it."

"But you gotta stop sulkin' first," he says as he abandons his second smoke on the ground and steps forward to grab a hold of Doris, pick her up and fling her over his shoulder.

She screams and clutches onto the back of his jacket, not trusting him to drop her on her head. "I'm not gonna be part of your weird-ass neanderthal fantasy!"

"Promise you'll love it."

She can hear the grin in his voice and he smacks her ass with his palm, making her yelp, but she can't help laughing, too. She kicks her legs a little and he carries her back inside. He grabs two bottles of beer on his way back to the booth and he puts Doris down to sit on the small stage again. He hands her the other bottle before sitting down in front of her.

She cracks it open by using the edge of the stage. Then she takes a long sip of the beer, watching him. "Do I even weigh anythin' to you?"

Johnny shakes his head. "Nope."

"You gonna slap me more?" She asks in a playful tone and sets the bottle aside.

"Only if you like it."

She bites her lower lip and places her feet on his legs, slowly dragging the heels of her shoes from his mid-thighs to his knees. "What's the bet?"

"Give me a lap dance without gettin' turned on yourself."

"That's ridiculous."

"Then you shouldn't have any trouble winnin'."

She purses her lips. He thinks he's so smart, thinks he knows which strings to pull. "And, hypothetically speakin', what would be your prize if you win?" She asks.

"You give me a happy ending."

"As in?"

"As in your hands, my cock, right here."

"This ain't Wu's parlor, you know, and I ain't a masseuse."

"No, but I'm pretty sure your lap dances involve lots of the type of movements Wu's girls do with their hands, and well, whatever else you pay for."

"I still can't believe we've been going to the same parlor for years."

"Yeah, just think of how many times we must've had indirect sex," he says with a smirk.

"Gross!" She scrunches up her nose. It's not really what she's thinking of, but Johnny doesn't need any more encouraging. "You really think I'd give you a handjob here? Where anyone could walk in on us?"

"Like I said, I promise you'll love it."

"You feel absolutely no shame, do you?"

"What's the shame in givin' you a chance to do what you've wanted to do since we met without you havin' to swallow your pride and say you want it out loud?" He asks.

"I should punch you in the fuckin' mouth."

"I'll let you swallow somethin' else instead of your pride. Bet you'd love that, too."

"God, I hate your smug ass," she says, too frustrated to come up with anything better, and presses the heels harder down on his legs. He wraps his fingers around her ankles and strokes her skin with his thumbs. He shows no sign of feeling pain. Makes her believe he likes it.

"So," he says and pauses to pull her down to his lap with her legs on both sides of him. She slaps her hands to his chest to keep him at an arm's reach. Or half an arm. He's much stronger than her without even trying. "Win the bet and you get to punch me wherever you want."

"I don't need to win any bet to do that."

"True, but we both know you love winnin'. Wouldn't it be more satisfyin' that way?"

Doris purses her lips again, thoughtfully this time. He _does_ know which strings to pull. "It would." She admits.

"Come on, birthday girl," he says, sounding persuasive. "You know you wanna get a bit freaky."

"Fine, you'll get your damn lap dance," she finally says after a brief staring contest. "But only 'cause we've been talkin' way too much about feelings tonight and I gotta do somethin' nasty to fix that."

"That's what I like to hear." He laughs.

"Just keep your mouth shut," she says as she removes her coat and ties her hair up into a high ponytail. "And keep your hands to yourself."

"What, you think I'm an animal?"

"Kinda hope you are when the time's right."

He raises his eyebrows, but the song changes and she whips her hair as she turns around on his lap, dropping her upper body down toward the floor. The view she presents him with makes him forget whatever he was about to say. She gives him a thorough demonstration of how flexible she can be in a variety of positions. Half-way through she sits down on his lap, pressing her back to his chest, and she snorts quietly to herself when she feels how hard he is. It's not like it hasn't happened before, because it definitely has, but Johnny's not a client. She enjoys knowing what she can do to him, so she grinds him harder and longer than entirely necessary before moving on.

Johnny's never had so much trouble keeping his hands to himself. He's aching to grab a hold of her thighs and grind her right back. He forces himself to play by the rules, though, even if he couldn't care less about who wins the bet at this point. She could give him the worst lap dance of all time and it'd still be better than all the ones he's paid for combined. All he wants to do is to bend her over the stage and pull on her long hair and take her from behind.

She can feel his cock twitching in his pants when she bends into a split right over his lap. She leans in with a grin to ghost her lips along the shell of his ear. "Bet you'd give anythin' to fuck me like this," she whispers in his ear over the music. He doesn't reply, or touch her, but his breathing turns clearly harsher. She almost feels like applauding him for the incredible amount of willpower he's showing.

Her teasing comment was solely meant to torment him, but her own primal urges don't seem to give a shit about how much she wants to win. By the end of the song she grinds herself on him again, her back to his chest, out of breath, unable to stop this time. Johnny gives in with a stifled groan. He puts his hands on her hips and he kisses the back of her neck. She doesn't slap them away, so he runs his hands up her sides to briefly cup her breasts. Her nipples feel hard under his touch, giving him confirmation on her not wearing any bra. His fingers press into her skin through her dress. She clutches her fingers around his wrists, dragging his hands back down to her hips, and he laughs low right next to her ear.

"I think I'm winnin'," he says.

"Yeah? Clearly I'm not the only one gettin' excited."

"And you think that makes it a tie?"

Doris lets go of his wrists and she turns around on his lap to face him. "Pretty much, yeah," she replies as she nods and gives him her best bitchy smile.

"The only rule was that you'll give me a happy ending if you can't do a lap dance without gettin' wet." Johnny reminds her. "As if I'd make a rule I know I can't follow with the stakes so high."

"And what, pray tell, makes you so sure I'm wet?"

"You want me to feel you?"

Her smile fades. She purses her lips into a thin line and glares at him. Without saying another word, she roughly unbuckles his belt, sticks her hand down his pants and wraps her fingers around his cock, because otherwise she'd never hear the end of it. She means to continue being rough with him, but when she strokes him down the first time, she finds out that Johnny _did not_ lie about his size. He's a total showoff, but damn if he isn't honest, too. She bites down on her lower lip to stop herself from making any comments about her discovery, and then she holds her fingers around him a little tighter and gives him a few slow pumps. She can barely hear his low groan over the music, but it still sends a shiver down her spine. To top it all off, Johnny's a moaner. As if he didn't have her wet enough already.

"Like what you found there?" He asks. He did notice the short pause she took after the first stroke she gave him.

"Shut up."

"Did you often give your clients an endin' like this to a lap dance?"

"I was a pole dancer, not a prostitute." She takes a quick side-way glance to make sure they're still maintaining their privacy. Then she switches her attention back to him, sliding her free hand up to touch the tattoos on his neck. She lost count on all the times she's wanted to run her tongue along the lines a while back. "You can consider yourself a special client."

"Yeah?" He grins, drunken, and manages to suppress another groan trying to escape his throat as her thumb wipes over the head of his cock, smearing pre-cum around. "Special enough to fuck the birthday girl?"

"You're unbearable."

"Me, or the fact how bad you wanna fuck me, too?"

He's right. God damn it, he's right. When they met for the first time, after all the canonizing the Saints put her through, she noted to herself on how attractive he looked with a grin on his face. And then, when Johnny made that damn comment about him not looking like he packed eight inches, but that looks can be deceiving, she felt even greater attraction towards his boldness and self-confidence. Falling for assholes was a bad habit.

She never got to act on it, though, but it was good being just friends with Johnny. Maybe not at first, when everything he said and did seemed to annoy the shit out of her, but him taking a shotgun bullet to the knee for her, that really changed things. She had to respect, even admire, a guy who acted so selfless. It was a rare quality to find in another person and Doris knew to appreciate it. She began talking to him, they grew closer, fast. They bonded in a way she'd never bonded with anyone else before. It's something she'd not expected at all.

Not that she never thought about something like this happening. They did flirt around with each other from time to time, and it was nothing serious, but at some point the jokes went beyond slight suggestiveness, and so he turned into a real guilty pleasure in her mind when she was drunk enough and alone.

She hopes the club's lighting doesn't reveal how flushed she must look right now. "What makes you think I wanna fuck you?" She wants it. Badly. But she still has to play hard to get, it's in her nature, not to mention she hates it when Johnny's right about something concerning her.

"You mean, besides how you're jerkin' me off in public?"

Doris' about to lash something quirky back at him when she feels his hand making its way under her dress and into her underwear, his fingers sliding over her slit and two of them slipping inside her. Her breath hitches in her throat and she freezes completely.

There's a subtle grin on Johnny's face — he was right about her getting wet over that lap dance. She's so slick he has no trouble thrusting his fingers inside her. He gives her a few seconds to punch him in the face and whatever else she'd do to show him his a dead man for what he just did. She doesn't, though, so he starts to move his fingers in and out of her, slowly picking up the pace. She closes her eyes and sucks her lips in. It's too degrading for her pride to look him in the eye while he pleasures her. Johnny draws a moan out of her throat by pressing his palm to her labia, allowing him to rub her off at the same time.

It takes her a moment or two to get back to stroking him, and even then she fails at keeping it consistent. Every circle he draws with his palm against her makes her throb around his fingers. He swears under his breath and groans when their movements sync and she moves her fingers around him faster to hear more of it. She's not looking around anymore. She's beyond caring about them getting caught pleasuring each other.

When she can't stop herself from moving her hips to meet his fingers, he pulls them out, grabs a hold of her chin with his other hand, and shoves the two wet fingers into her mouth, displaying exactly the kind of boldness that makes him so fucking hard to resist. "That a good enough answer for you?" He asks, sounding like he just won every argument they've ever had, and any future ones, too.

Doris opens her eyes to glare at him. She sucks and bites on his fingers, having extreme difficulties keeping herself from just bouncing on his cock right there in the booth. "Fine, we'll fuck, but you gotta follow one rule." She breathes the words out all flustered after he pulls his fingers out of her mouth and releases his grip on her chin.

"What's that?"

"No kissing."

"No kissing? At all?"

"None on the lips."

He chuckles, amused. "What? You think you'll fall in love with me if we kiss?"

"You should be so lucky." She snorts. His ego never ceases to amaze her. It's exactly why she's choosing to have one restriction for what they're about to do — Johnny hates rules. He loathes them and she's going to enjoy torturing him. "I just don't wanna ruin our friendship. It doesn't count if we don't kiss." She has major trouble not bursting into a fit of drunken giggles over her own words, because what she just said might be even more ridiculous than the bet Johnny came up with.

"Yo, you serious? How drunk are you, Doe?"

"Absolutely fuckin' hammered, but still not enough to do it here."

"Just hop on my dick, baby. If anyone comes to interrupt us, I'll shoot 'em," Johnny says, running his hands up her thighs, fingers brushing over the lines of the tattoos that cover the outer sides of her legs.

"I'm not gonna _just hop on your dick_."

"Sure looks like you're about to."

She tilts her head to the side, slightly squinting her eyes at him, and she pulls her hand away from his cock, leaving it resting against his lower stomach. She's surprised over how eagerly she wants to wrap her fingers back around it. "You wanna fuck, or not, Gat?"

Doris doesn't need to ask him twice. It's getting late, or early, meaning he has limited time to do as many of all those dirty, dirty things he's secretly thought of doing to her. Soon enough they're headed toward the restrooms, with his hand on her hip steering her the right way. He pushes her through the door to the ladies' room. They almost make it to the last stall unnoticed, but then a woman comes out of a stall on the opposite side of the room. Johnny just nods at her with the most casual 'Evening, Miss', making Doris stumble into the stall over giggling so hard. He pulls the door shut and shoves her against the wall with her back facing him.

"Oh, baby-boy's not messin' around tonight," she says playfully with her cheek to the wall as he presses his body against her, slipping his hands under her dress, fingers tracing the lace covering her hips.

"You gotta keep quiet," he says in a low tone in her ear before pulling her underwear down to her knees, helping her step one leg out of them.

"You say that like I've never had sex in a bathroom stall before."

Johnny just slaps her ass, much harder than he did earlier, and she makes a loud sound that's something between a whimper and a giggle. Then his hand goes back under her dress, while the other moves up to cup her breast. She grinds against him again, breathing heavier with his hand between her legs, fingers rubbing her off to the muffled beat of the music playing in the club. He slides his middle and ring finger inside her, curls them up a little, and starts fingering her hard and fast. She slams her hand to the wall and her heavy breathing turns into loud moaning. His hand leaves her breast and he slaps it over her mouth instead. She keeps moaning into his palm. Johnny licks and nibbles on the skin of her neck, doing everything possible to drive her wild, to throw her over the edge just to prove her a point. She's soaking wet and she throbs around his fingers, having completely forgotten to grind him. He fingers her even harder for a few seconds until she drops her hand down to clasp her fingers around his wrist as her head turns light, her moaning stops and her thighs press together, and just when she's about to come he pulls his fingers out of her.

"No—don't stop," she tells him with a small whimper as she wiggles her face free of his palm. She's out of breath and her voice shudders in desperate need. It's cute, just like he imagined it to be.

"You're not gonna come yet," Johnny whispers in her ear. "I mean, I'd make you come twice before I fuck you if you hadn't doubted my knowledge of how to do foreplay right." He turns her to face him, only to slam her back against the wall. As much as he'd love to finger her all the way to climax, his fingers aren't what he wants to have inside her the first time she comes because of him.

The back of her head hits the wall and she gasps in pain, surprised, but he's already sliding his hands over her ass and the back of her thighs, lifting her off her feet. Doris silently thanks him for taking the lead like that, preventing her from degrading herself more by dropping down to her knees to wrap her lips around his cock and blow him. Johnny's proving to be just as rough as she imagined him to be and she couldn't be more fine with it. She wraps her legs around his hips while he pulls the hem of her dress up, and the neckline down and under her breasts, leaving her chest exposed to cold air on purpose. He leans his head down to kiss the outer side of one of her breasts and run his tongue over the nipple once.

If it weren't for the rule she made up, he'd kiss her now, suck on her full lower lip and slip his tongue into her mouth to taste the mix of alcohol and all that candy she's been eating the whole night. She rakes her fingers into his hair, pulling on the strands demandingly, and he knows she wants him to give her chest more attention. He settles for kissing her shoulder and licking her neck, just to get back at her for that damn rule she has to limit him with when he finally gets to touch her bare body like this. There's a part of her she won't let him have and it drives him out of his mind. Johnny's too drunk and blinded by lust to notice the contradiction in his actions and needs.

His tongue running up and down Doris' neck gives her a whole new kind of rush, a rush she doesn't recall ever feeling before. A loud moan escapes her mouth and she closes her eyes, only concentrating on his tongue on her skin. She needs him to take her in that stall; even if Dex walks through the door right now and pledges his undying love for her, even if the building gets caught on fire, even if the whole damn world falls apart around them. She needs this and, as her new life motto goes, she takes whatever the fuck she wants.

Johnny pulls her out of her thoughts and back into that stall they're in as she feels him already pushing past her entrance and further inside her, despite of her tensed up body resisting it at first. Her muscles give him a tight squeeze and he groans into the crook of her neck and bites down on her skin, not giving her any time to adjust, as he feels the same rush she does, and shoves himself as far in as possible.

"Shit!" She yelps and hits his shoulder, hopefully hard enough to form a bruise. She tightens her hold around his hips to keep him from moving. "What's wrong with you? You can't just shove that _thing_ in like that!"

"You ain't exactly a blushing virgin, Doe. You can handle it."

"Yeah, but I'm not a fuckin' blow-up doll, either."

"Kinda look like one with those lips." Johnny snickers and grins, and she wants to punch it all off his face. "My bad."

"You hurtin' me on purpose?"

"You'll be moanin' my name soon enough."

It's her turn to snicker. "You can keep dreamin', baby-boy."

"Yeah?" He asks, taking her words as more of a challenge than a statement.

"Uh-huh."

Proving Doris wrong doesn't take much. He pins her arms above her head and pulls out of her, only to slide the head of his cock right back inside her. She exhales deep, relaxing herself, as he slowly thrusts deeper into her. He's kissing the spot behind her ear when one of his thrusts turns her discomfort into pleasure. She sighs into his ear and rolls her hips to meet his. With one hand massaging her breast, lips sucking on a hardened nipple and hips aimed just the right way, she melts into soft moans between Johnny and the wall. His whispered name falls off her lips enough times for him to lose count. It makes him rise his head to face her, and just as he's about to kiss her for the first time, she grabs a sturdy hold of his chin.

"I give you one simple rule and you're trying to break it already?" She breathes her question on his lips. "Don't you have any self-control?"

"You really think that my dick slammin' into you right now doesn't count if I don't kiss you?"

"That's right, Johnny." She chuckles with a devious grin, her eyes blurry and head spinning. "We don't wanna ruin our friendship, do we?"

"You're gonna be back beggin' for more either way."

"Just shut up and slam it harder."

Someone bangs on the stall's door, telling them to quit screwing and to get out, that they'll be banned from the club for this. Doris laughs and tightens her grip on Johnny's hair as he fastens the pace, his face buried in her neck, his mouth kissing and licking her skin, and his teeth leaving marks behind. She moves her other hand under his shirt to claw at his skin with her nails and leave his back full of red marks in return.

"Come for me, boss." He breathes the command into her ear, along with hot air, making her shiver. It's the first time he calls her that.

She instantly slips her hand between them, rubbing herself off and panting over how good it feels to have him inside her at the same time. Her fingers come to a halt a few times to keep it going a little longer, to hear Johnny's breaths grow heavier. "I gotta confess somethin' first." She's so out of breath she can barely talk, but with all the dirty talking that night inspiring her, she still manages to form words between moans. "Sometimes I imagine you between my legs and it makes me come _really fuckin' hard_." She whispers the last three words right into his ear sharp and heavy, pausing between each one to emphasize them, and then bites down on his earlobe.

Johnny groans, stopping half-way inside her for a few seconds to keep himself from coming before her. She giggles and moves her hips to tease him, letting her legs loose enough around him to ride his cock, quickly seizing her opportunity to take the lead instead. She watches him close his eyes and lean his head back a little. She thought she'd enjoy seeing his moody, tormented face, but the way he looks when he's fighting back an orgasm in too much pleasure is so much better.

"Since when?" His voice shudders as the pace of both her hand and hips turn faster.

"Since you taught me how to handle knives in a fight and pretty much grinded my ass five months ago."

"Yeah, you shoulda seen how much cum I got all over my stomach thinkin' about that later."

Johnny's barely finished his sentence when her body tenses up in his arms. The image he put in her head is too vivid. Her hips slam into his and the muscles inside her clench around him tight. Short, sharp moans start escaping her mouth and he can't hold back any longer. He slides his hands under her kneecaps and pushes her legs up until her knees touch the wall and he slams his hips right back into hers. She wraps her shaking arms around his neck as he groans and curses under his breath. Releasing months worth of build-up tension has them both coming hard and long.

Their chests heave against each other. Doris presses her lips to his cheek, planting kisses along his cheekbone and down his jawline. He lets her legs fall back around his hips. His arms ache from holding her whole weight on them, but he wants to keep holding her like that against the wall for a little longer, hoping she might break her own rule in her afterglow.

She plays with damp hair at the nape of his neck, still planting kisses on his skin, though nowhere near enough his lips. "That was... fuck."

"Yeah," Johnny replies, agreeing with the accuracy of her description of their quickie. Then he snickers into her shoulder. "And I didn't even need to take you out on a date."

"Shut up, you're ruinin' this." She tugs at his hair to make him obey, then falls silent for a while longer, not minding the intimacy at all, until a realization hits her. Her brow knits together. "Wait, Johnny, you didn't just..."

"What?"

"Tell me you didn't just come inside me."

"Yeah, about that," he says after a short silence, pulling back to look at her. "You on the pill, right?"

"You went bareback on me? Are you fuckin' serious?"

"Just kiddin'." He grins slyly, unable to drag his prank longer than that. Her face looks priceless enough. "I snatched a rubber from your purse earlier."

She wants to do the sign of the cross, but since Johnny's blocking the way, she smacks his shoulder instead, the same spot she mangled just minutes ago. "You _snatched one from my purse earlier_? You don't even carry your own?"

"It's not like I thought you'd get all horny on me tonight. Wasn't prepared."

"You're an asshole, Gat."

"I figured you'd notice it."

"I'm too fuckin' high for that," she explains as she lets her legs loose around him and drops down on her feet, knees still pleasantly weak. She silently scolds herself for suddenly acting so irresponsible. Usually she's careful about this stuff, but the second she had Johnny's fingers inside her, every rational thought left her head. She pulls the neckline of her dress up to cover her chest. She frowns when she notices she's wet half way down her thighs while trying to pull her underwear back on. "Look at the mess you made. You happy now?" She asks in a scolding tone and tries to reach for the toilet paper, but quickly falls back against the wall, as she's still very much drunk.

Johnny chuckles in his usual way and hands her a few arks of paper. He watches her wiping herself as he buckles up his pants. "That's definitely mostly your mess. Don't clean up too well, though."

"Are you bossin' me around?" She asks, trying to sound intimidating, as she throws the rolled up paper arks into a trash can and finally gets to finish dressing herself.

"Yeah," he grins again, though this time so overly confident it starts up a burning feeling in the pit of her stomach all over again. "We gotta leave and I ain't done with you yet."  
 

 

* * *

 


	3. Get Down...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied. There's gonna be 4 chapters, bc I'm weak and I let myself get carried away while writing. It's also a bit more graphic and borderline hate sex. Added a couple more tags. Have fun!
> 
> ~~There's no daddy kink, they're just drunk and dumb.~~

 

* * *

 

"Come on, Doe. Lemme kiss you."

"No."

"Just one kiss."

"No!"

"I promise I won't make you fall in love with me."

Doris snorts as she steps into the elevator. They left the club in a hurry — half avoiding the staff for getting caught during their noisy quickie, half trying to sneak past people without being noticed. In the backseat of a cab they had to decide where to go from there. She suggested King's old penthouse, since to her knowledge the place was empty and nobody should interrupt them there, and Johnny agreed. "Sorry, but I'm trying to keep _you_ from fallin' in love with _me_ ," she says.

"Yeah?" He asks and then he stumbles into the elevator after her. He manages to get a hold on her hips, so he spins her around and pushes her to the wall, making it look like that was what he meant to do, instead of him simply being drunk enough to be stumbling around like a damn fool.

She puts her hands to his chest. He's making her lean her head back to see his face. "They always do," she says in the same tempting tone she's used on him before.

"I don't doubt that."

"You would, too."

"I'll prove you wrong. Just say yes."

"Mm—no."

"Okay, look," he says, blindly smashing his hand on the panel next to them in hopes of hitting the right button, "either we kiss, or go bareback. I mean, assumin' you are on the pill." He needs to make sure, because she didn't exactly answer the question earlier, and he's not planning on becoming a father over one drunken, lust-driven night between friends.

The elevator starts moving up while she rolls her eyes. "Of course I am."

"Great. I'll let you choose."

"That's so very generous of you."

"Special offer, just for you. Which one's it gonna be?"

"I'm not sure, Gat," she says, batting her lashes, pretending to ponder her options. "How about I send your ass back down to the lobby before you get to step out of the elevator?"

"What, you don't trust me?"

She purses her lips and raises an eyebrow. "You really wanna go to that specific topic?"

"Yeah."

"Look, I can't know where you've dipped your dick in, and honestly, I don't care. But what you're askin' for is something I only do in a serious relationship. I gotta protect my coochie."

Her drunken joke makes him laugh. "You seriously think I'd ever wanna harm your coochie?"

"Johnny."

"Fine, we'll be responsible adults," he says, stroking her cheek with his thumb. "No need to send me back down. I'll just eat you out then."

She giggles. "Now, that's why God gave me more than one set of lips."

"I'm gettin' my ticket to Hell before I'm done with you tonight without you sayin' your Lord's name in vain like that."

"Ain't my Lord."

"Really? Then why do you have a big-ass cross tattooed on your back sayin' _forgive me for my sins_?"

She's raising an eyebrow at him again. She'd have to be very naked for Johnny to read the sentence on her lower back. "And when exactly did you read what my tattoo says?"

"Watched you change once." Truthfully, more than once. Several times.

"Out of my underwear?"

He grins. "Yeah."

"How naughty." She trails her fingers over the tattoos on his neck. "It's a joke. An immoral, distasteful joke. I won a sweet-ass ride for my brother, though."

The elevator reaches the top floor after first stopping by two other floors, but Johnny doesn't move. The doors open and close behind him.

"You tattooed your whole back to win a bet?"

"Yeah."

"So, you ain't religious?"

"I was raised to believe."

He chuckles. "Only you'd take a joke that far just to spite somethin' you were told to do."

"You're absolutely fuckin' right, baby-boy," she says as she hits a button to open the doors again and slips under his arm to enter the penthouse. "You want a drink?"

Johnny follows her. "I think we've both had enough for one night."

"Speak for yourself." She snorts while heading for the bar. "I'm gonna need one just to deal with the size of your—"

"I'm speakin' for us both," he says, cutting her off by grabbing her wrist and yanking her back until her chest bumps into his.

Doris gives him a challenging stare. "You sure you're up for another round?" She asks, taking a few steps back as he forces her toward the bedroom.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, you know, you're old."

"You think twenty-six's old?"

She just smiles at him. "And you've downed a shitload of beer tonight."

Johnny kicks his shoes off, then pulls her coat off her shoulders and drops it on the floor. "All that insultin' you do, it's kinda hot." He drops his own jacket on the floor, too, and he picks her up, running his hands up and down her thighs while she wraps her arms around his neck.

"I know."

"But call me old again, and I'm gonna bend you over my knee and make you call me daddy," he says as he carries her to the bedroom.

"Just make sure you don't bend me over your shitty knee."

"You're such a fuckin' brat, you know that?"

"And you're a dirty, old man."

"Talkin' like you've never called a guy daddy before."

"I'm not sayin' you're right, but you might have a point there," she says with a giggle as she bends to the side to drag her fingers over the buttons of a CD player when they pass it by, succesfully turning some music on before Johnny drops her down on the bed and falls right over her to kiss her neck.

"Thought so."

"At least let me go freshen up first."

"There's no time for that," he says between the kisses he's trailing along her pulse, pinning her wrists above her head to keep her from escaping.

"Oh? You in a hurry to go somewhere?"

"Yeah, inside you."

"Smooth." She keeps giggling with his five o'clock shadow tickling her neck. She presses her leg between his and he presses his groin to her thigh to let her know just how hard he is again. He bites down on her skin too hard and she winces. "Johnny, stop leavin' hickeys all over me."

"You're gonna look at 'em tomorrow and remember all the nasty stuff I did to you."

"I can't cover 'em if my whole neck's just one big hickey."

"Who says you gotta do that?"

"We ain't teenagers." She pushes him off, but he only changes his attention from one side of her neck to the other.

"Well, you won't let me kiss you, so I gotta do other things with my mouth."

"Seriously, what's up with you and kissin'?"

"I happen to like it."

Doris closes her eyes, wishing he hadn't said that, because she's dying to know what it's like to kiss Johnny. Does he prefer it slow and passionate, or fast and intense? Would he lick and nibble on her lips the same way he does on her neck, and would he keep kissing her while moving inside her? She swallows while thinking of how he'd work his tongue into her mouth. What if this really is just a one-night stand, never to happen again? What if this is the only chance she'll ever get to kiss him? For a passing moment she gets caught up in wondering what it is she actually wants from Johnny in her drunken mind, effectively confusing herself.

Then her brow knits together and she slightly shakes her head to herself — there will be more chances if that's what she wants, and there'll also be plenty of time to think about it later.

"Doe?"

She looks at his raised face. "Yeah?"

"You fallin' asleep on me?"

"I've been accused of a lotta things, but never that." She folds her leg between them to place her foot against his stomach, pushing him back on his feet. Then she leans herself up on her elbows for a better view and tilts her head to the side. "Take your clothes off."

Johnny stares at her for a moment. She's bossing him around, and he decides to let her have this, but no more than that. Not tonight. He starts stripping down, removing every item of clothing, until he's only wearing a pair of boxers. He shows her no intention of taking them off.

"What? You gettin' shy on me now?"

"No. You're gonna take 'em off," he says. She starts laughing, but he takes a step closer to her, grabs a hold of her arms and yanks her up into a sitting position. Her grin fades for the second time that night and she stares up at him and he stares right back. "What did I tell you?"

She yanks her arms free of his grip, and Johnny's sure she's going to kick him out and throw his clothes out of the window. But then, to his surprise, she lifts her hands slowly to his sides and scrapes her nails down on his skin rough enough to leave bright red marks behind. Her fingers reach the waistline of his underwear and she pulls them slowly down, but never breaks the eye contact they're still holding each other in. She scratches his skin all the way down to his knees, digging her nails harder into his skin with every inch. He doesn't even blink.

"You _really_ hate takin' orders, huh?" He tries to keep a straight face for dominating matters, but there's a small smirk playing on his lips. She looks about ready to slit an artery with her nails. He doesn't doubt for a second she wouldn't know just where to cut him to make him bleed to death. Makes the whole thing so much better. "Now, be a good girl and take it in your mouth."

"Who the fuck do you think I—"

Johnny cuts her off by slapping her cheek with an open palm without a warning. Not hard enough to cause her excessive pain, but still enough to force her head to turn, to leave a faint reddish mark on her skin. He grabs a hold of her chin, turning her face back to him. He might be a dead man after tonight, but it's gonna be worth it. "Won't tell you twice," he says. The smirk is gone and he's looking stern as ever. To her, it's damn arousing.

Doris stares at him again with her jaw set. Her breathing grows faster, deeper, as she tries to pierce a way through his eyes with her own. She's always been willing to let women dominate her, but not one man has treated her like this in years. Johnny's too arrogant for his own good. She'd rather die than ever say it out loud, but she's loving it.

Without breaking their eye contact, she jerks his hand out of the way, opens her mouth and presses her tongue flat to his shaft to give him one long, slow lick. Then she parts her tongue from him, closing her mouth, making him wait for her next move. Johnny makes her drop down to the floor on her knees for that and she digs her nails into his thighs. She touches the head of his cock with her lips, kissing the underside, slowly moving to the tip, and once she reaches it, she sucks the whole head into her mouth. Her hands leave his thighs as she wraps them both around his cock and starts sucking on it harder, swirling her tongue around it.

Johnny sinks his fingers in her hair, groaning. Seeing her painted lips around him after thinking about it more times than he cares to admit almost makes him come prematurely. He lets his head fall back to avoid the overly stimulating sight. He's still going to take everything out of the blowjob he's receiving, whether he lasts two minutes, or ten.

She's bopping her head back and forth, slowly taking more of him in, when she feels him wrapping her tied up hair around his hand for a better hold. He thrusts a little deeper into her mouth and she tries to pull back, but Johnny won't let her. She looks up at him, knowing full well that can't be a sign of anything good, at least not for her.

"If I can't kiss you, I'm gonna have to come up with other uses for your mouth."

Doris makes a disapproving noise and tries to shake her head, but he's holding her in place, already thrusting deeper. Her teeth scrape against him and he stops.

"You sure you wanna know what happens if you bite me?" He asks, pulling on her hair, partly hoping she'd give him a reason to get rougher.

She frowns up at him and gives out a frustrated exhale through her nose. He can feel her swallowing before she slides her hands to the back of his thighs and up to grab his ass. She starts taking more of him in herself, refusing to let him use her like a cheap toy. She has to briefly stop to gag twice before she manages to relax her throat. Johnny lets her do the work and she doesn't stop until the tip of her nose touches his skin.

"I'd say you got natural talent, but knowin' you," he says as he's stroking her hair, trying to keep his breathing steady, unable to remember if he's ever been as hard as he is before, "I'm pretty sure this ain't your first time doing this."

She presses her nails deep into his skin again, as it's the only act of defiance she can do, unaware of how much he's loving the combination of sensations she's creating for him. He starts moving his hips, trying to keep it slow for her sake. His plan fails pretty quickly. His thrusts turn faster than they should, making it difficult for her to breathe, so she tries to make a sound to catch his attention, but it only makes him moan out loud.

"Shit," he stops to catch his breath, allowing her a few seconds to catch hers, too, "keep doing that."

Liking the moan she pulled out of him, she keeps making sounds that make her throat vibrate around him. With that added to the wetness of her mouth and the tightness of her throat, he knows he's not going to last much longer. Both his thrusts and moans grow faster. Her knees hurt and her eyes start watering, but hearing his moans makes her pool up between her legs. He pulls on her hair painfully when he comes. She can feel him twitching hard, and she expects him to pull out, only to realize he's not going to. She hits his hip with her fist, desperately trying to swallow with his cock too deep in her throat.

Once he's done, Johnny pulls out of her mouth, lets go of her hair and watches her falling back against the bed to gasp for air. "I did promise earlier I'd let you swallow somethin', didn't I?" He pants.

"I didn't say you could do that," she snaps, coughing and wiping her mouth. Her throat's sore and aching, and it's going to be much worse tomorrow.

"I did it for you, baby," he says with a grin that's been stuck on his face the whole night, making him seem more devious than usual. "Much less messy than comin' all over your face."

"Fuck you, Johnny."

"Not yet."

He picks her up off the floor and helps her back on the bed. He slides his hands up to her shoulders, wrapping his fingers around the straps holding her dress up, but instead of simply moving them off her shoulders, he pulls on one of them hard, tearing it off the fabric like it's paper.

She glances at her ruined dress in disbelief, then back up at Johnny. "Did you just—do you even know how much this fuckin' dress cost?"

"Don't care," he says as he rips the other strap apart, too.

"I just bought it!" She slaps his hands away. "You made me swallow without fuckin' askin' and this is how you make up for it?"

"You loved it," he replies. "And I don't think there's enough fabric to call it a dress, anyway."

"Why don't you just take a knife and slash my clothes off me, huh?"

He gets down on his knees in front of her, yanking the neckline of her dress down. "I can do that, too," he says in a teasing tone. He leans down to kiss her chest, his hands running up her thighs to move the hem out of the way, too.

"Asshole."

"Act angry all you want, I know that turned you on more."

"It didn't."

"You're gonna forget all about your dress in a minute."

She snorts, dropping down to lay on her back, and Johnny can hear the pout in her voice. "I doubt that."

"Really? You're still doubtin' me?"

"Uh-huh."

"You begged me not to stop less than an hour ago."

"Okay, well, you do know what to do with your fingers," she admits. Thinking about how he fingered her in the stall while holding his other hand over her mouth does take her thoughts off the dress.

"Figured from all that cute moanin' you did," he says as he's lifting her leg to kiss her ankle while pulling her shoe off and dropping it to the floor.

"But can I give that kinda credit to your tongue?"

"You wanna make a bet again?"

"No."

Johnny gives out a little laugh, kissing his way up her leg to her hip, only to move back and do the same thing to her other leg. He pulls her underwear off while licking the soft skin of her lower stomach, then pushing her legs apart to fit himself back between them. Before letting her feel his tongue any lower, he gives her ass a firm squeeze and spits saliva right on her clit, having figured out long ago she's the type of girl who loves to be treated like that in bed, as long as her partner's brave enough to go for it. The little moan and the slight trembling of her thighs proves him right.

"Watch me," he says and grins over how obediently she pushes herself up to lean on her elbows, quick to forget what she's supposed to be mad about when she's drunk.

Suddenly she feels shy under his intense gaze, his head between her legs, taking in her sweet and salty scent with each breath he draws. It always makes her a bit nervous to get into a position like that with another person for the first time, and Johnny easily triples that feeling. She wants to close her eyes, or lay back down, hide her face from him, but watching his tongue run slowly over her slit, teasingly flicking at her clit once before he lifts his head with a string of his saliva and her juices following his tongue, is definitely enough to keep her watching.

She bites down on the inside of her lower lip to suppress a moan. Watching Johnny eat her out while she can still taste him in her mouth sets every cell of her body on fire. He uses his tongue and mouth to kiss her like he'd kiss her lips, and he lets her feel his teeth, just as she did, too. He pulls her closer to the edge of the bed and moves her legs over his shoulders for a better position to slip his tongue inside her. She gives in with trying to suppress her moans with his tongue lapping at her walls. He's making her head spin and her arms give in under her. She wants to roll her hips to ride his tongue, but Johnny keeps her firmly in place, his arms wrapped around her thighs. Then he parts his mouth from her.

"You liked that, boss?" He asks, licking his lips. The only thing he gets out of her is an incoherent moan and her fingers clutching around a handful of his hair, pushing his head back down. Even if she wanted to say something, that moment she can't remember any words in any of the languages she speaks.

She pulls on his hair, her other hand holding onto the sheets tight, as he runs his hot tongue faster on her over and over again. She squirms and pants under him, swelling up fast with him sucking on her. It's downright embarrassing — for her, not for him — how quickly her back arches and how she suddenly comes without a further warning. Johnny can barely hold her hips down as she throbs against his tongue, taking him by surprise, too. She's unable to breathe for several seconds, until her vision fills with black spots, and she forces herself to draw short, shallow breaths. Whatever she'd visualized in her head of what it'd be like to get eaten out by Johnny, _none_ of it prepared her for the fact that just knowing it's him doing it ended up being too much.

She buries her face in her hands, hiding her flushed cheeks, but Johnny takes his time to move up to face her. He kisses her thighs and stomach, trails a line up between her breasts, until he reaches the tattoo on her chest. He switches to his tongue, slowly licking along the lines of the letters on her skin. She sinks her fingers in his hair again, wanting to yank his head up to tell him to stop being so slow and sensual, but then she realizes it's the perfect opportunity for her to catch him off guard and that way distract him from her shame.

Doris rolls them both around on the bed, managing to get on top of him, but he grabs a hold of her shoulder in turn, his thumb on her throat slightly pushing down right over her clavicles, and he shoves her down on her back. She gasps. His fingers leave her shoulder and throat, and he pins her wrists above her head, his other hand making its way between her legs.

"You haven't been properly dominated in a long time, have you?" Johnny asks with a grin. She says nothing, just glares at him while biting down on her teeth. His fingers slide inside her. "Bet you love being on top, always the one in charge, always settin' the pace and comin' when you wanna come."

"You're the one callin' me boss here."

He grins wider. "You won't be doing any of that tonight."

 

* * *

 


	4. ...With Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the last chapter! There's actually some plot at the end. Thanks for the kudos and comments (also I'm sending good vibes to anyone who noticed the chapter titles are Spice Girls songs)! You are all filthy and I love you :*

 

* * *

 

 

After a few more minutes of heated arguing and Doris squirming under him — which quickly turned into intense grinding — Johnny pulls her in closer by the hips. He's sitting on his knees on the bed, lifting her hips up to his lap and lining himself up, rubbing his cock over her slit a few times before pushing the tip inside her.

"How can you be ready to go again?" She asks, tensing up and biting down on her lower lip, still a little tender from the way he used his teeth on her.

"You got no idea," he pauses for a groan as he enters her, "how long I've wanted to fuck you."

"I think I got some kinda idea." She pants, arching her lower back. "Go slower."

"You can just say it's too big for ya."

"Shut up," she says, slapping his arm. The unsubtle grin on his face alone is enough to keep her from stroking his ego. "I told you I need a drink."

"A drink ain't gonna make you less tight."

"Was aimin' for numb."

He moves both hands to her hips, drawing slow circles on her lower back with his fingers. "Just relax, Doe. Don't try to hold your body up. Let me handle that."

"I let you handle it earlier and you were an ass."

"Yeah, sorry," he says, surprising her, as she didn't expect him to apologize, "you just feel so fuckin' good."

She settles for his apology, because all she wants that moment is to come with him inside her again. He runs one hand up to her chest and thrusts into her a little deeper. She's wet and swollen from him going down on her, which makes it hard for him to control his urge to bury himself into her fast and deep. Doing so right after apologizing for what he did in the stall would be a dick move — literally — and he doesn't want to risk getting sent down to the lobby with nothing to cover his hard-on with, so he plays nice and gives her the time she needs to adjust. It takes less time to make her sigh and thrust back into his hips than what it took earlier.

"Now," Johnny says, grinning again, "work my cock like you work that pole."

She frowns. "Why you gotta say it like that? I don't fuck the pole."

"Some of your moves really ain't far from that," he replies, and she can't come up with any arguments that could falsely prove he's wrong, so she settles for slowly moving her hips and letting him watch himself disappear inside her over and over again.

She closes her eyes. Her mouth's closed, too, but small moans forming in the back of her throat escape along her heavy breaths, as the position allows the head of his cock to rub her the right way. She moves her hips faster and Johnny moves his hands lower to grab her ass, massaging her roughly. She gets more wet every second, her juices running down his shaft, and he thrusts deeper inside her to let her know he's still the one in charge. She moves her hand between her legs for added pleasure, but he grabs a hold of her wrist. She gives him a half-lidded glare.

"You ain't gonna come like that now," he says.

"Oh? What you gonna do, Johnny? Fuck me into a blissful end?"

"Yeah."

"Well, good luck with that." She snorts. "You'd be the first one-night stand doing so."

"I'll take you on that bet, angel," he says as he thrusts back into her, unable to keep still any longer.

"Don't call me that."

"Why? You looked really cute in your little costume."

"Congratulations on catchin' me on a night when I had to wear the cheesiest fuckin' thing."

"You still got it?"

She purses her lips, showing clear unwillingness to co-operate with whatever he's going to propose next. "Depends on why you're askin'."

"I already got somethin' on my mind for my birthday."

"Yeah, I'll die before I dance for you in that costume again."

"We'll see." He pretty much has his mind set on seeing her angelic, just the right kind of heavenly show again, but they can argue about it later. "How about sugartits, then?"

"That's worse!"

"I don't know, Doe," he says as he leans forward to slide his hands up her sides and cup her breasts. "Never had a prettier pair of tits fit my hands so well."

"It's hard to believe your drunk compliments are even worse than the sober ones."

"Sugarthighs?"

"Stop talkin', Johnny," she says between moans and slaps her hand over his mouth.

"Sugarbooty?" He asks in a muffled tone, kissing and biting her fingers.

"You're just slappin' the word sugar in front of body parts."

"Well, you had a lollipop glued to your mouth for the first four months and you're eatin' candy every fuckin' day," he says, and then he suddenly halts his movements as an idea hits him. "Ooh, sugarlips."

"Johnny," she grunts his name as she takes his face between her hands, giving him the most serious glare she can manage in her state, "you better shut your mouth and make me come with that sugardick right now, or I swear—"

He slides his hands under her back and pulls her up with him, thrusting deep into her, making her whimper and clutch her arms around his neck instead of finishing her threat. She wraps her legs loosely around his hips and leans back, moving her hips into his demandingly, until he picks up the pace and starts pounding into her, drawing loud moans out of her throat. She closes her eyes to try and hide the way they roll back when his cock keeps pounding as deep into her as her body allows.

"You love being fucked like this, don't you?" He asks, breathing hard.

"Shut up," she moans and forces him down on his back. Johnny's hands roam up and down her body as she leans her hands to his chest, slowly rolling her hips to the music in long, harsh thrusts that make their hearts pound and fingers turn numb. She fastens the pace and when she's bouncing on his lap, he can't stop himself from letting her hear his deep groans between her shaky breaths.

"Do that louder," she says after pausing her movements to be able to form coherent words.

"But you just told me—" He's cut off by the sudden pain she causes him by briefly leaning her hips the wrong way. "Fuck, Doe, that's painful."

She leans in closer with her hands on both sides of his head and she smiles. "That's payback for what you did earlier. Now, give me what I want."

"I'm startin' to think you're more of a demon girl than an angel."

"Sounds much better."

Johnny gives her a short laugh, loving the fight she's been putting up all night, and then he moves his hand to her throat and rolls them both around to shove her back down on the bed. If he were sober, he wouldn't be so sloppy with letting her take the lead.

She wraps her fingers around his wrist, making sure he won't move his hand off her throat, and he presses his thumb down on her pulse. For the first time in his life he's grateful for the slight numbness all the alcohol consumed that night provides, as he's irrationally determined to show Doris how wrong it is of her to doubt him three times during one night. He goes straight for a fast pace, pounding into her, slightly tightening his hold around her throat, then slowing down for a few deeper thrusts, until picking up the pace again.

She can barely breath. Her head turns light and she loses all sense of everything else except the intense pleasure that sweeps through her body and burns her inside each time his hips slam into hers, until it gets too much. "Stop," she whimpers as she pulls his hand off her throat and tries to move away to show him she's serious about it, and not just saying it to be a tease.

Johnny halts, being aware of how he can sometimes get too rough. "What—why?"

"Feels too fuckin' good," she says, instantly regretting how the words slipped out of her mouth before she could regain enough of her mind to think clearly.

"Well... that's a first."

"What, first time givin' someone pleasure other than yourself?"

"No," he yanks her in closer and thrusts deep into her, making her moan loudly, "first time being begged to stop 'cause it feels too good, instead of painful."

"I didn't beg."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Then I ain't gonna stop again, won't care if you start beggin'. Like you said, I'm gonna fuck you 'til you come."

She doesn't get another word in, as he cups her breasts with both hands, pushes her hips up and continues with the fast pace, not slowing down at all this time. She wraps her legs around his hips and slams her hands to his thighs to hold onto something, digging her nails into his skin again while he forces desperate moans out of her throat.

He thinks of every argument they've had, all the times she's defined him, every dirty joke and every bitchy insult they've thrown at each other, and most of all, each time she's told him he'll never find himself between her legs. Dominating her and watching her squirm under him, still trying to fight the pleasure she's in, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of knowing what he can do to her, yet still failing her goal so clearly; it's the best kind of revenge he could dream of.

Doris' hips tense up. The more she fights him, the more she needs the release he's offering her. He's breathing heavy, fingers pressing hard into the soft flesh of her breasts, and despite of biting down on her teeth, she can't stop herself from letting him know in a high-pitched voice that she's about to come, that she wants him to go faster, deeper, that she _needs_ to feel all of him inside her.

"If I knew this is how you turn obedient, I woulda bent you over the hood of my car and fucked your pussy like this months ago," he says in a low tone next to her ear between his groans.

She draws a short, shaky breath, pressing her nails deeper into his skin as he throws her over the edge with words for the second time that night. She throbs and clenches around him even harder than before, and Johnny holds her hips down to stay inside her. Thrusting into her with her body resisting him turns his groans into moans, forcing him into a sudden release, and he manages to pull out just in time to free himself of the condom, allowing him to spill his load on her stomach. He lets his cock pulse on its own for the first two waves before wrapping his fingers around it and stroking himself through the rest. He moans more than he usually does without paying attention to it himself.

"God, that looks so fuckin' hot," she breathes out the words, watching him from under the arm she flung over her eyes. His cum feels warm against her skin, and she wants to touch him, but she's too tired to move.

He gives her a lazy grin, running a hand up and down her thigh. "What did you say about me being the first one-night stand doing that?"

"Technically, this is our second time and that was my third orgasm."

"Yeah, don't even try, Doe. I'm takin' the fuckin' credit for that."

She grabs a hold of his wrists, bringing him down close to her face in an almost painful grip. "You made a mess," she says in a raspy voice, "clean it up."

Johnny swallows. Despite usually liking to be the one in charge, he has his moments of submitting to the will of certain people. There's something about the tone of her voice, and the way her cold stare gives him chills, that tells him she's not giving him a choice, that he's going to please her, and his opinion on it matters nothing. He's unsure of there being anything she couldn't talk him into as he kisses his way down her chest to lick her stomach clean. Thinking it's a shame he can't kiss her lips, he kisses her thighs, instead, but resists his craving to go down on her again, because he needs some leverage, to make her want more. Whether this is something that will happen between them ever again, or not, he wants to leave her with the same craving he feels.

"You wanna toss me a smoke?" She asks as she watches him moving to sit to the edge of the bed. He grabs his pants off the floor, pulls out a pack with one cigarette and a lighter inside, and hands it over to her. She's about to light the last cigarette when he gets up without bothering to wrap a sheet around his hips, or anything, just walks to the door in all his naked glory. She holds the lighter in front of her, having completely forgotten what she was doing over the sight presented before her.

"You need to start wearin' tighter pants," she says.

"Why?"

"Your ass looks damn great."

He laughs quietly before he disappears through the door. She rolls around to lay on her stomach, lighting up the cigarette and pulling an ashtray on the nightstand closer. The smoke fills her lungs and her heart's finally starting to slow down. She's half dozing off when Johnny comes back to the bedroom, turning the music off on his way to the bed.

"Drink this, so you don't die tomorrow," he says as he sits down next to her, snatches the burning cigarette from between her fingers and sets down an ice-cold can of soda between her shoulder blades. She yelps, suddenly very awake, takes the can and slams it into his abs, giving him his share of surprise chills. Johnny just smirks and holds the cigarette between his lips as he opens the can for her.

"So," he says, leaning his back against the headboard while she sits up next to him. He hands her the drink back and she chugs down half of it.

"So?"

"You ready for the next round?"

She nearly chokes on the soda, coughing a little and clearing her throat. "The what?"

"Just kiddin'."

"Jesus, don't do that."

"And you called me old." He takes three quick puffs, finishing the cigarette, and leans over her for the ashtray. "Three a night is where you draw the line? Really?"

"Johnny, if there's one thing in this world that isn't a competition, it's sex," she says, setting the soda can down on the nightstand.

"Unless you're winnin'?"

"Unless I'm winnin'."

"Alright, come here," he says while he slides down on the bed to lay on his back and extends an arm for her.

She blinks, once again surprised, as she was pretty sure he would just split once he got what he wanted. She shakes it off, too tired to get into analyzing his actions, and lays down next to him with a yawn. "Ditchin' my own party for dick. Classy."

Johnny laughs as he pulls her in closer and sinks his fingers into her messy hair. "Pretty sure this ain't the first time."

"Shut up," she says and gives his chest a sleepy smack with her fist before settling her head on his shoulder and wrapping her leg around his. She yawns again.

He pulls the covers over them, even though he's not quite ready to sleep. Holding her like that feels nice. "How'd you rate your birthday?"

"I'd say it's right up there with my tenth birthday when my dad gave me my first sniper rifle."

"He gave you a what?" Johnny asks, looking down at her face when she doesn't answer. "Doe?"

She mutters something in Spanish, already falling fast asleep, as she's never felt quite so comfortable in another person's arms. And he, on the other hand, has never seen anyone pass out like that. It's impressive.

He chuckles quietly and presses his lips to her forehead. "Happy birthday, angel," he says, even though he's aware she probably can't even hear him. He stays awake a little longer. She smells like coconut and smokes, and he has no idea how vividly he's going to remember that blend of scents, how long it's going haunt him, and how soon he's going to lose her.

 

* * *

 

The next morning Johnny watches Doris sleeping for an hour until his headache gives in enough for him to take a quick shower and throw his clothes back on. He walks back into the bedroom while washing down three painkillers with water. He sits down on the edge of the bed to dry his hair out, taking the opportunity to watch her a little longer. Her lipstick and the makeup around her eyes are smudged, and her hair's a total mess, and still to him she looks so damn gorgeous he has great trouble not waking her for a round of slow-paced morning sex. But besides gorgeous, she also looks calm, happily unaware of the inevitable hangover waiting to hit her, so he decides to do something nice for her by letting her sleep in peace for as long as she likes.

Johnny woke to her phone ringing somewhere on the floor. He rolled around to lay on his back and dozed off, but then the damn thing rang twice more, and like that wasn't enough, it also started making noise to announce received messages. He tried to wake Doris — first gently, then by kicking her — but she was more of a dead body than a sleeping person, so when the fourth message came in, he gave up. He dropped out of the bed to fumble around for the phone without his glasses on, and when he finally found it, he noticed it was all Dex. It took Johnny around two and a half seconds to convince himself that he's absolutely entitled to look through the messages, and half a second more to come to the conclusion that deleting them and leaving no trace of the received calls was all for the well-being of his best friend, and that none of it had anything to do with the sudden pang of jealousy he felt slash through him.

After getting fully dressed, he fills another glass with water and sets it down on a nightstand next to a bottle of painkillers and her phone. Then he steals half of her cigarettes before taking the elevator down to the lobby and stepping out into the chilly morning air. It's rare for him to be in such a good mood, which even his hangover can't seem to kill, so leaving early to check on everyone was just another nice thing he decided to do for her.

A couple of hours later, well past noon, Doris wakes with a raging headache. She pulls a pillow over her face and grumbles a string of quiet curses into it. She remains oblivious to her surroundings for a while, until things start flowing back to her mind; the party, the booze, Johnny, and...

She pulls the pillow off her face, staring up at the ceiling, blinking. She looks slowly to her left, only to find the other half of the bed empty. She frowns. It takes her great effort to prop herself up on her elbows to take a quick look around the bedroom. The only clothes on the floor are hers. The apartment's quiet.

"Johnny?"

There's no answer. She rolls around to lay on her stomach. No note on the nightstand, just a glass of water, a bottle of painkillers and her phone. She doesn't remember putting the latter one there, but then again, right now she doesn't remember a lot of things about last night. She reaches for her phone. Nothing there, either, except a nearly dead battery.

Then, after having successfully avoided them for a few hours last night, intrusive thoughts about Dex hit her. She groans and drags her hands over her face, getting makeup all over them, quietly asking herself _why would you dumb bitch think of him now_ in Spanish. Sleeping with Johnny was partly a way to help herself get over her failed relationship, but now he's gone and she's still drunk enough to be unsure of her memories of everything that happened last night. She might even think it was all just a crazy, alcohol-fused sex dream, if it weren't for the bite marks all over her body, her aching thighs and the feeling of complete satisfaction peaking somewhere under the royal hangover she's been blessed with on the first fine day of her twenty-second year.

She's not surprised at all that Johnny left before she woke, but it doesn't mean she hadn't hoped he'd still be in bed next to her in the morning. Not even holding her, or any other sappy shit like that, but just... be there. She knows it's never a smart move to let thoughts like that take over while being in an especially sensitive and vulnerable state because of suffering a hangover. For now it was just one night, and whatever happens afterwards, happens. What truly matters is that Johnny gave her the ride of her life and she doesn't regret letting him, even if she wouldn't easily admit it to him.

Doris snorts over the small existential crisis she almost fell into and carelessly drops her phone on the floor. She pulls the covers over her head, planning to sleep through the day, and hell, maybe later party some more. Nobody's stopping her from extending her birthday celebrations; on the contrary, people will most likely drag her out of bed and demand her to make up for her disappearance last night.

She's the fucking Leader of the Saints, now, the biggest street gang in Stilwater. The city's her lady, her delightfully uncomplicated, phenomenal lover, and she doesn't need a man to mess with her plans.

 

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End file.
